


Beep

by Risingwood



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Death, M/M, Sickness, minimal dialogue, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:05:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3577242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risingwood/pseuds/Risingwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaworu is in the hospital, and asks Shinji to fulfill his last wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beep

The beeping of the machine near the bed was constant; every few seconds, a sharp, high-pitched note would sound, breaking the still silence in the dry hospital air. Weeks ago, when Shinji had first visited, the noise had given him headaches. But now, as he sat in the plain white chair near the bed, the sound didn’t bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d come to like it. It was a sign of life; that Kaworu’s frail heart was still pumping blood through his veins. He didn’t want the beeping to ever stop.

But he knew it would, eventually.

So he spent every free moment he had, sitting there, beside Kaworu. Rubbing his fingers against the pale skin of his hand, watching as bleach-white hair started to fall away from his scalp, talking to him even though the drugs Kaworu was on kept him asleep most of the day. The times when he was awake, he rarely spoke. His throat was scratchy from his deep sleeps, and his words always seemed to drift; never making much sense, but Shinji always listened intently. Sometimes he brought a notebook, to write down their small conversations. Other times, he carried a tape recorder with him, recording everything they said to each other in his visits. He never wanted to forget any of it.

Twice Rei came along with Shinji to visit. Those times, nobody had spoken a word the entire visit. Nothing had to be said. Asuka never visited. Kaworu asked about her once, but Shinji didn’t respond. She hadn’t been at school for a month.

As the days grew shorter, so did the time Kaworu was awake for. Every day, it seemed that precious minutes of his consciousness were stolen from him. Their conversations were shorter and simpler, and Shinji fought the tears pricking threatening to fall each time Kaworu closed his eyes, slipping back into his dreams.

The doctor had told him that Kaworu had about six months, at most. But that was five and a half months ago.

So after Shinji was forced to stay after school one day to speak with the administrator about his frequent absences, he got to the hospital as fast as he could. After all, any day could be the day. And it turns out, Shinji almost missed it.

Once in the room, he was greeted by the doctor, who informed him that time was running out for him. There may not be a tomorrow for Kaworu.

Shinji’s entire body shook as he took in that information. Quietly, he nodded and walked to the side of the bed. The doctor left them, allowing them time. As he took Kaworu’s ice-cold hands in his own, his ruby eyes opened halfway. Their eyes met, and Kaworu’s mouth formed a faint grin. Shinji hated it. How could Kaworu be so calm in a situation like this? He swallowed a lump in his throat, which felt swollen and closed up.

“Kaworu,” he spoke softly, the name sitting heavy on his tongue. Shinji’s eyes blurred, and he closed them. In response, he felt fingers touch his cheeks, brushing the away silent tears. He reopened his eyes.

The visit went as usual, Shinji dominating the conversation until Kaworu interrupted by asking something impossible of Shinji; he wanted Shinji to pull the plug on him. To let him go.

And they proceeded to have the only argument they had ever had. It lasted at least fifteen minutes, neither of them giving up on their side. Shinji, eyes filled with tears, refused. There was no way he could do it. He could never.

But Kaworu was insistent. He was dying anyway. And he knew that today was the day. He couldn’t go out from nothing; Shinji had to be the one to do it, Kaworu would not allow the doctor to be the one.

And before Shinji could counter with his own emotions, Kaworu placed his hands on the sides of Shinji’s head. Whatever Shinji was about to say, was immediately forgotten, as his head was weakly pulled down to Kaworu’s. He let his lips brush against the ones below him, eyes closing. They stayed like that, their mouths soft against each others, barely moving. Tears fell from Shinji’s face, landing on Kaworu’s cheeks.

Kaworu was the one that pulled away from the simple touch. He pleaded one last time with Shinji, to just give him this one last thing. To let him go out the only way he wanted to. And finally, Shinji nodded. He was defeated. Kaworu was going to die, either way. He could give Kaworu his last wish.

As he stood up, his knees wobbled, and he almost collapsed right there. His eyes locked with Kaworu’s, and their hands slipped away from each other’s. Shinji turned to the machine near the bed, the beeping slower than ever before. He could hear Kaworu breathing; slow and infrequent.

The tips of Shinji’s fingers touched the switch and he froze. He gazed over his shoulder at the bed, eyes falling on Kaworu’s smile. It took him a while to press it; two full minutes of his eyes on Kaworu, memorizing every part of him for the millionth time.

Once it was pressed, the beeping slowed down more, and Shinji regretted his decision. But there was no turning back. He tripped as he tried to get back as fast as he could, to Kaworu’s side. He leant down and pressed his mouth against Kaworu’s forcefully, not feeling any response. Breaking away, unable to see through his thick tears, he almost missed the tiny gasp in Kaworu’s last breath.

“Thank you. I love you, Shinji.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
